With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

When Jiang Zhiyu woke up the next day, it was just dawn. Pushing open the courtyard gate, she saw Jinbao carrying a small basket on his back, standing on tiptoe and peering out the door, like a little animal waiting to be fed.

"Sister Jiang!" Jinbao's eyes lit up when he saw her. He skipped over, holding an empty candy wrapper in his hand. "The peach shortbread and fruit candy you gave me are so delicious! My mom said they taste even better than what we ate during Chinese New Year!"

Jiang Zhiyu smiled and ruffled his hair: "If you like it, I'll bring you more next time. Are you coming up the mountain with me again today?"

"Yes!" Jinbao nodded vigorously, patting his chest. "I'll take care of your pig feed! I guarantee I'll cut it fast and well!"

As the two walked up the mountain, they bumped into Jiang Wenwen and the other educated youth carrying hoes. Seeing Jiang Zhiyu and Jinbao chatting and laughing, her face flushed red—not from embarrassment, but from anger—how could this female educated youth, so new, have already won over the brigade leader's grandson? She even slacked off on the mountain every day, earning fewer work points yet living a more comfortable life than anyone else! She gripped her hoe tightly, a glint of malice flashing in her eyes. The message she'd sent last night should have reached the next village; that hoodlum nicknamed "Black Bear" was said to be strong enough to overturn a stone mill, more than enough to deal with a female educated youth.

Jiang Zhiyu ignored her glare and led Jinbao straight up the mountainside. When they reached their usual spot for cutting pig feed, Jinbao put down his basket and began working, swinging his small sickle rapidly while humming a folk song. Jiang Zhiyu, on the other hand, leisurely strolled around, her wood-based supernatural abilities subtly spreading out, scanning the surroundings like radar. She was craving something again.

"Jinbao, stop cutting it." She suddenly spoke up. "Go down the mountain and go to my house to get that small iron pot from the stove, and also bring two bowls and a spoon."

Jinbao's eyes lit up: "We're going to cook on the mountain?"

"Hmm, I'll stew pheasant today."

"Alright!" Jinbao threw down his sickle and ran down the mountain, his steps as light as a gust of wind.

While he was away, Jiang Zhiyu wandered around the neighborhood. Before long, she caught a plump pheasant with a vine and found a cluster of fresh hazel mushrooms under an old tree; their caps were thick and damp with earth. She found a sheltered, flat spot, built a makeshift stove out of stones, gathered some dry branches, and lit them. The flames crackled and quickly grew strong.

Less than half an hour later, Jinbao came running back, panting, carrying a small iron pot and a bag of salt. "Sister Jiang, I'm here!"

"Perfect timing, help me prepare this pheasant." Jiang Zhiyu handed him the pheasant. "Go to the stream, and remember to clean out the innards."

Jinbao rolled up his sleeves and went to the stream, his movements even more practiced than last time, clearly someone used to such work. When he returned with the cleaned pheasant and washed hazel mushrooms, the water in the pot was already boiling. Jiang Zhiyu chopped the chicken into pieces, threw them into the pot along with the hazel mushrooms, sprinkled in some salt, and then took out a small piece of ginger from her spatial storage and tossed it in—was this something she had stockpiled from Hong Kong?

Soon, a rich aroma wafted out, carrying the savory flavor of chicken and the sweetness of mushrooms, making one's mouth water. Jinbao swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the pot: "Sister Jiang, is it ready yet?"

"Simmer for another five minutes." Jiang Zhiyu lifted the lid, stirred it with a spoon, and the broth had become thick. "It's ready."

She first served Jinbao a bowl, then served herself one. Jinbao blew on it, carefully took a sip, and his eyes widened immediately: "Wow! It's so delicious! A hundred times better than my mom's chicken soup!"

Jiang Zhiyu also took a bite, and it was indeed delicious. The ingredients from the mountains had a pure aroma, much more authentic than the instant soup in the space. The two of them took bowls and quickly finished the pot of soup, then shared the chicken, with Jinbao even gnawing the bones clean.

"I'm so full!" Jinbao patted his stomach and let out a satisfied burp.

Jiang Zhiyu smiled and cleared away the dishes, telling him to rest where he was. She then walked up the mountain to get some fresh air. She had only reached the halfway point when she faintly heard a commotion coming from the foot of the mountain, like people arguing, mixed with cries and shouts.

She looked in the direction of the sound and found that it was coming from the cowshed. She quickly walked towards the source of the sound and hid behind a big tree to look down. She saw several people gathered around the cowshed, wearing blue overalls and red armbands with the words "Revolutionary Committee" on their arms. They were throwing things out of the cowshed. Bedding and wooden boxes were scattered all over the ground and were being trampled on.

What made her heart ache even more was that among those people wearing red armbands, two were holding down a middle-aged couple—her parents! Her father's forehead was bruised and bleeding, and her mother's hair was disheveled, her face streaked with tears, yet she was still struggling to protect a small cloth bag in her arms.

"Behave yourself!" The man in red armband kicked Jiang's father again. "Reactionary, still dare to be arrogant?"

Jiang Zhiyu felt all the blood rush to her head, her nails digging deep into her palms, and she almost rushed out. But reason held her back—going out now would be like walking into a trap. The Revolutionary Committee was a master at labeling people, and if she, a sent-down youth, were associated with "reactionaries," the consequences would be unimaginable.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, and quietly activated her wood-type ability. A vine as thin as a hair sprouted from the ground and slowly crawled towards the feet of the red-armbanded men, gently pricking their calves—she didn't use the Ghost Vine Poison, fearing it might cause fatalities and lead to trouble, so she only used some itchy plant sap.

The people wearing red armbands didn't pay attention at first, thinking they had just been bitten by mosquitoes. But within two minutes, they started to itch all over, as if countless tiny insects were crawling on their skin, making them itch from their skin all the way to their bones.

"Damn it, what's going on?" A tall, thin man in a red armband couldn't help but scratch, and the more he scratched, the itchier it became, and soon he had red marks on his arm.

"I'm itchy too!" Another short, chubby guy started scratching as well. "That's strange, it was fine just now..."

Before long, the group was so itchy they were stomping their feet, and they had no energy left to fight. The leader cursed, "Damn it! Let's get out of here! We'll deal with them another day!" With that, he led his men away in a sorry state, not even bothering to pick up what was on the ground.

The four people in the cowshed, still shaken, helped each other to their feet and silently began to clean up the mess on the ground. Jiang Zhiyu saw her mother clutching the small cloth bag tightly to her chest, her eyes wary, wondering what was inside.

At this moment, Captain Chen walked over with his hands behind his back, glanced at the messy cowshed, and sighed: "The Revolutionary Committee people are gone? Sigh! You guys... tidy up first, you don't need to work this afternoon." He didn't say much, turned around and left, which was considered as tacitly agreeing that they could catch their breath for a while.

Jiang Zhiyu hid behind a tree until she was sure no one was around before quietly retreating. She was both shocked and furious—why would the Revolutionary Committee members suddenly come to the cowshed for no reason? Someone must be pulling the strings behind the scenes. She recalled Jiang Wenwen's venomous gaze earlier; it couldn't be her, she didn't know her connection to the cowshed. Could it be the person watching the old house, or that mysterious enemy in Kyoto?

Back on the mountainside, Jinbao had already filled two baskets with pig feed and was dozing off on a rock. "Jinbao, let's go down the mountain."

"Oh, okay." Jinbao rubbed his eyes, picked up his basket, and followed behind her.

After handing over the pig feed and recording her work points, Jiang Zhiyu went straight back to her small courtyard. She washed the small iron pot clean, took out a wild rabbit and a pheasant from her spatial storage, and found some hazel mushrooms. She stewed a large pot of pheasant and hazel mushroom stew on the wood-fired stove, and also braised the wild rabbit—her parents had been frightened today and probably wouldn't be in the mood to cook, so these hot meals would be perfect to take to them.

After preparing the food, she stored it in her spatial storage while it was still hot and sat in the courtyard, lost in thought. It seemed she had to go to the Revolutionary Committee tonight to find out what had really happened.